SPINS: A Personal Viewpoint

By: Kathleen Bangs
During my tenure as a single-engine airplane flight instructor, nobody could have ever said that I didn’t like to take an airplane up for a spin, literally.
If there was a spin-approved airplane available, my students were going to spin it, all while I extolled the virtues of effective spin training and recoveries. No passive ‘spin demonstrations’ from an instructor – at least in my mind - satisfied the spin requirement. Rather, I made even my private pilot applicants prove to me, and more importantly to themselves, that they were comfortable with getting into and out of spins. To make it more interesting, we called them precision spins, and little leeway was given as the applicants worked hard to recover from three-turn spins on exact pre-determined headings.
But after I left the flight instructor ranks and flew for an increasingly larger series of commercial air carriers, I never thought much about spins again, until one beautiful sunny Sunday afternoon in Oklahoma.
As I banked my Boeing-727 onto a straight-in visual for one of two parallel north-south runways, our approach controller said farewell and remarked for us to enjoy our view of a large airshow presently taking place at the airport. The other parallel runway was playing host for the festivities which had drawn over 100,000 spectators.
Inside the final approach fix, all eyes in our cockpit were fixed on a low-wing monoplane performing a series of precision aerobatic maneuvers. After climbing for additional altitude, the airshow pilot kicked the plane over into a spin. After eight or nine rotations I said to the other two crewmembers, “he’s going to crash – there’s not enough altitude to recover.” They tsk-tsk’d me, saying “It’s just part of the show!”
By this time we were into the landing flare the show was obscured by the terminal building. I pulled the big three throttles to idle, and after touchdown we taxied to the gate. Across the field a black smoke plume rose into the sky, marking the spinning airplane’s impact point with the ground.
I was surprised, but not shocked. A discussion with a former instructor of mine – himself an accomplished airshow pilot – revealed that he’d once had a startling experience while doing routine spins in a popular four-place high wing trainer, something he’d done in his own words, “hundreds of times before.” But on that particular day, the plane “wrapped-up” on him, and he’d been initially unable to get it to recover from the spin. He reported using the same inputs that previously had been very effective, yet the plane kept spinning. After seven revolutions, it finally recovered. He was a man of few words, so for him to mention this at all gave it significance. What he added, which I never forgot, was his opinion that on some days, for some unforeseen variable – maybe just a slight shift in CG, a small dent here or there, or even perhaps an imperceptible change of control input – for whatever reason – an airplane can enter a spin, like it has countless times before, and then refuse to recover.
That changed my perception on spins, and my previously somewhat cavalier attitude of regularly performing them with anybody, sans parachutes, and in any spin-approved airplane. It gave me a respect that perhaps all spins belong only in fully aerobatic airplanes, with parachutes, and so as to avoid the fate of that Oklahoma airshow pilot - with enough altitude underneath to provide options.
A spin can be considered a near out of control maneuver. You may be in control right up until the point that the plane enters a full spin, and you may be in control from the moment after you initiate the spin recovery and the airplane responds. But during that in-between time – when the plane is in a fully developed spin – there really is no guarantee you’re in control and that it is going to recover.
Because my new perception on spins caused me to view them as the most potentially dangerous of all airplane maneuvers, I also had to re-evaluate the idea of spin education and training. Do I now today still think it’s a good idea for pilots to experience spins from the windscreen vantage point, as opposed to the more passive view of a textbook or lecture? No. I still think it’s a great idea.
A great idea, with a few caveats to consider beforehand. The vast majority of Certified Flight Instructors have had very little formal spin training. When aviation researcher and pilot Dr. Patrick Veillette conducted a detailed stall/spin survey, he found that 98% of the responding flight instructors stated their spin training consisted of no ground training and just two spins (one in each direction) before they were endorsed as being proficient to teach spins. Further inquiry revealed that 95% of the respondents did not receive training emphasizing the conditions that lead to inadvertent spins, common student errors, spin aerodynamics, and the effects of the flight controls in a spin.
What does this mean to you, as a potential spin training student? That you could be handing over the responsibility for your safety to a woefully inadequately prepared instructor. Does this mean you should forego spin training? No, but you should seriously consider hiring an instructor who was properly trained, and who can conduct spins with you in a fully aerobatic airplane, complete with parachutes.
Across the U.S. a number of reputable flight schools specializing in aerobatics, upset training, and spin recoveries are available to meet your particular training need and match you with an appropriate instructor and airplane. This doesn’t mean shelving your common sense. Pay attention to your instincts: if anything about an instructor or an operator’s attitude, procedures or manner seems questionable, then it’s time to train elsewhere. Ditto for the maintenance on the equipment, including the parachutes – observe if everything appears to be well-maintained and cared for.
As a new private pilot back in high school, I spent a summer learning aerobatics with a very qualified instructor who was also an active airshow performer. We always wore parachutes, and frequently went through a verbal walk-through of the bail-out procedure. Being a young, awestruck teenager, I never thought to question the possible stupidity of wearing ancient military surplus parachutes on our backs – if they were good enough for my instructor, who was I to question?
The following season he told me he’d purchased new chutes for his operation. The reason? During a repacking – which admittedly may have not been accomplished in the previous two decades – the lines to the canopy of the chute literally disintegrated in the packer’s hands. I think my instructor’s exact words went something like this, “they were dust – thank heavens we never had to use them.”
In closing, spin training – like aerobatic training – is an excellent confidence builder and an opportunity to experience flying from a radically different perspective than straight-and-level with banks limited to forty-five degrees. Aerobatics give you the freedom to explore the edge of the performance envelope, to feel high-load G’s, and to get a rush of exhilaration unique to tumbling and twisting in the air. Spin training allows you to work out any undue fear associated with them, and also teaches you the invaluable lesson of how misapplied control, power, or acceleration inputs can suddenly and inadvertently get you into them.
It is my hope that if you do complete spin training, that you will do so with a qualified and competent instructor, and in a properly certified aircraft. Good spin training doesn’t take away the fear of spins, rather – it directs the healthy respect due them to that regime of flight that relentlessly demands vigilance – the realm of high angle of attack.
For further reading and a discussion on stall theory, please see the next article in this series titled “To Spin, First You Have to Stall.”
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